


Breaking Down

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: M/M, Sharing a Bed, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 03:58:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14228739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: Cliche? Yep. Improbable? Definitely ;)A Barisi bed-sharing fic that I started a lifetime ago, before that awful "farewell" episode. I was finally able to finish it and I hope you like it :)





	Breaking Down

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you, Detective—how much did you spend on that suit?”

Carisi glanced over at Barba, who hadn’t looked up from his cell phone. “Not as much as you’d think. I had a coupon,” he said, and then Barba _did_ look up, laughing. Carisi met his eyes for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. “I couldn’t have everyone thinking I was some kid in cheap suits following you around all the time.”

“You’re far from being a kid, Carisi,” Barba said. “And a cheap suit is still a suit.”

“I know I could never compete with you—”

“It’s not a competition,” Barba interrupted. “But…it looks good on you.”

Carisi looked over at him, surprised. After a moment, he said, “Are you hitting on me, Barba?”

It was meant to be a joke, but Barba looked down at his phone with a frown and said, “No. Trust me, you’d know if I were.”

Carisi looked out the windshield, not quite sure how to respond to that.

“I just meant you don’t have to try this hard,” Barba said after a moment.

“I’ll try anything once,” Carisi answered without thinking.

Barba uttered a surprised laugh, once more lifting his head to look over at him. “Careful, now, Sonny,” he said, his voice silky and low. It was the first time he’d ever called Carisi by his first name. Carisi felt a flush of desire, the intensity of which surprised him.

And he actually felt his cheeks heating in embarrassment. He knew that Barba was, at least a little, into him. Carisi was flattered, and he’d done his share of flirting with Barba—though only in an innocuous, topical sort of way; he knew that Barba would never make any sort of advances, physical or verbal, not unless Carisi was explicit about wanting to cross the proverbial line in the sand. And Carisi didn’t know if he wanted to cross that line.

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t considered it. He’d thought about it more than he was prepared to admit. He respected Barba more than he’d ever respected anyone, and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize their friendship or their working relationship.

He wondered if he should broach the subject. It would be embarrassing, and not just because he didn’t want Barba to think he was naïve or inexperienced, or insecure. He thought it might be worth the embarrassment, though, to be able to lay their cards on the table and talk as friends and—well, not equals, exactly, because Carisi knew he had no hope of ever _quite_ being Barba’s equal; no one did. Not in Carisi’s eyes, anyway. They were friends, though, and colleagues, and Carisi knew that Barba respected him.

“You know you didn’t need me to come along on this trip,” Barba said, and it wasn’t quite a question. “You could’ve had Detectives Rollins or Tutuola—”

“They’re not lawyers,” Carisi cut in.

“ _Noooo_ ,” Barba agreed, quietly. “But you are.”

Carisi shrugged a shoulder, frowning at the highway. “I wanted your opinion,” he said. “You’ve got more experience.” His cheeks still felt warm.

Barba was silent for several moments. Finally, he said, “Experience can only come with time and practice.”

Carisi’s stomach squirmed, not unpleasantly. His heart was thudding in his chest, and he realized that he’d made a decision, after all. He glanced at Barba, who was regarding him in silent speculation. “I’m willing to work—Shit,” he said, turning his attention to the road as the car lurched, engine sputtering. He grabbed the steering wheel with his other hand as the engine died, taking the power steering with it. He checked his mirror and braked, pointing the car toward the shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he saw Barba grab the handle above his door, and heard him swear softly.

Carisi held the wheel tightly, the muscles in his arms bunching as he guided the coasting car off the road and brought it to a stop in a cloud of dust. Steam was streaming upward from the hood, blurring the highway ahead of them. Luckily, there wasn’t much traffic.

Carisi looked at Barba. “You okay?” he asked.

Barba released the handle and lowered his arm, scowling. “Of course,” he said. “What the hell—”

“Wait here, I’ll check it out,” Carisi said, popping the hood.

“Just call a tow truck,” Barba answered, sounding annoyed.

“Lemme check it out,” Carisi said, opening his door after looking for traffic. He got out, closing the door on the sound of Barba’s objections, and glanced up and down the highway. There wasn’t much in sight. Up ahead on the left, a small convenience store; across from it, a two-story, generic motel with a single car in the parking lot. Carisi walked around to the front of his car. He saw Barba through the windshield, scowling at him, and lifted the hood, propping it up. Steam poured upward as the engine ticked.

Several cars passed by, slowing but not stopping.

Barba cracked his door and called, “You’re going to ruin your suit.”

“Better mine than yours,” Carisi answered, and he heard Barba grumble something before pulling the door shut. The detective grinned, knowing the other man couldn’t see him. After a minute, he lowered the hood but left it unlatched, and walked to Barba’s door. Barba opened it and looked out at him. “You do know how to drive, right?” Carisi asked.

Barba’s mild frown deepened into a dark scowl, and Carisi had to resist the urge to laugh. “Of course I know _how_ —Do you?” Barba asked, gesturing toward the front of the car with a flick of his hand.

“I need you to steer.”

“Pardon?”

Carisi sighed. “Switch seats, put the car in neutral, and steer.”

“Steer _where_ —and what are you going to be doing?”

“Obviously I’ll be pushing or there wouldn’t be much point in steering, would there?” Carisi said. He held up a hand when Barba opened his mouth. “A tow truck is a waste of money. I can fix this well enough to get us home. Just steer toward the motel, it’s got a bigger parking lot.”

“You’re going to push.”

Carisi frowned. “Yeah?”

Barba cocked an eyebrow. “Can you push this car by yourself? You weigh, what, all of a hundred—” He broke off, laughing at the look on Carisi’s face. Swinging his legs out of the car, he said, “I know, I know, I’m sure it’s all muscle inside that suit.” He stood and patted Carisi on the arm. “Don’t look so offended.”

“I’m not offended,” Carisi grumbled, stripping off his suit jacket and vest and tossing them onto the passenger seat, as Barba rounded the front of the car. Unbuttoning his shirt, he added, “Notice I didn’t ask _you_ to push.”

Barba was at the driver’s side door, and looked up as Carisi was pulling off his shirt, leaving him in nothing but his trousers and a white tank top. The snarky comeback died on Barba’s tongue, and when Carisi met his eyes—still frowning—Barba quickly looked away and ducked into the driver’s seat.

Carisi bent down to stick his head in the passenger’s door. “Just keep it on the shoulder, yeah? We don’t want any accidents.” When Barba opened his mouth, Carisi cut in, “I know, I know, you know how to drive. Don’t look so offended.” He straightened and shut the door before Barba could respond.

Barba muttered a string of curses under his breath as he put the car into neutral. He considered keeping his foot on the brake for a minute or so, just out of spite, but dismissed the idea. He didn’t want Carisi to _injure_ himself. He watched in his mirror as the detective positioned himself behind the car. The vehicle rocked forward and back a few times, and then started rolling—slowly—forward.

“Well, damn. Way to go, Carisi,” Barba muttered with a smile, impressed. The car picked up momentum, and Barba watched as cars passed them by. He was a little worried for Carisi’s safety back there, even though the detective and the car were off the road. It was a relief when Barba was finally able to turn into the parking lot of the motel.

Carisi slapped his palm against the trunk, twice, and Barba braked, putting the car into park. He got out as Carisi was walking up to his door.

“Nice job, Detective.”

Carisi stopped. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, but at Barba’s words, a flush of color crept into his cheeks. An embarrassed, pleased little smile touched his lips, and he muttered, “Yeah, uh…good job…steering.”

Barba laughed. “I should compliment you more often,” he remarked.

Carisi cleared his throat. “Oh, I don’t know, I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he said, passing Barba to lift the hood. “Look, Barba, it’s gonna be dark soon. Even if I can get this running by then, which I doubt, we’re still three hours from the city. I wouldn’t wanna chance it in the dark.”

“You doubt your mechanical skills?” Barba joked, but he was frowning.

“If I were by myself, it’d be one thing,” Carisi said. “But I’d feel better making the drive in the morning.”

“What the—You want to s _tay here_?” Barba asked, hooking a thumb in the direction of the cheap-looking motel. “Don’t be—I’ll get an Uber—”

Carisi laughed. “Three hours one way?”

“I’ll pay,” Barba said.

“If that’ll make you feel better,” Carisi answered, without looking at him as he bent under the hood. “I’m not leaving my car here and I’m not paying someone to fix something I can fix myself. It’ll have to go into the shop when we get back, anyway.”

Barba was silent, staring at him. Finally, he said, “Are you serious?”

Carisi glanced at him. “Yeah. Sorry. I can probably get you reimbursed for the Uber, at least.”

“Well,” Barba said. He paused, debating. “I…” He sighed, sounding agitated. “I’m not leaving you _here_ ,” he said. “I guess…I mean, are you _sure_ you can get this thing running by morning?”

“I’m sure,” Carisi answered.

“Then…I suppose we’ll just…” He trailed off, looking at the motel with his nose wrinkled. “I’ll go get a room. Or two,” he added, as an afterthought, glancing at Carisi as he turned toward the office.

Once Barba’s back was turned, Carisi smiled and went to get his toolbox from the trunk.

 

*       *       *

 

“You have fourteen rooms and one car in the lot, how can you possibly have only one room?” Barba asked, trying to keep his tone civil.

The man behind the desk pointed a finger in the general direction of the motel outside the office, and said, “We were renovating the upstairs, broke a pipe. Water damage.”

Barba blinked at him. “To _twelve rooms_?”

“No sir,” the man answered, seemingly unperturbed by the tone of Barba’s voice or the hint of color staining the lawyer’s cheeks. “Six. But we had to cut the power and water to all the downstairs rooms and half the upstairs ones were already torn apart for the renovations. We’ve got numbers eight and fourteen operational, but fourteen is taken. Eight’s the first one at the top of the stairs if you want it.”

Barba had to bite back several unfriendly comments, and he drew a breath to steady himself. He forced a smile. “How far’s the next motel?” he asked. “Or town? Or anything?”

“About twenty minutes.” The man glanced pointedly toward the parking lot, where Carisi had his head and torso under the hood of his car. “Unless you’re walking,” he added.

“How far’s the nearest garage? Mechanic?”

“Twenty minutes,” the man repeated. “Though it looks like your…friend might know what he’s doing.”

Barba pulled out his wallet, with his jaw clenched. “Knowing what he’s doing is only worth so much if he can’t get the parts he needs,” he said.

“The store over yonder has a bit of automotive stuff. Nothing too specific but they got a supply of belts—”

“It’s fine, we’ll figure it out,” Barba interrupted. “Thanks. Just…” He slid his card onto the counter. “I don’t suppose the room has two beds?” he asked, knowing it was probably too much to hope for.

“No, sir,” the man answered, swiping the credit card. “I do have a cot, if you want, but it’s a bitch to haul up the stairs. It’s normally fifteen extra but I’ll let you have it for free since—”

“It’s fine,” Barba said, tapping his fingers impatiently against the counter as he looked over his shoulder.

“Maybe you ought to check with your friend?” the man suggested.

Barba turned his head to scowl at him. “If he doesn’t like it, he’s welcome to sleep in the car,” he said, taking his card.

The man pulled a sheet of paper from the printer and slid it across the counter. “Sign here, please,” he said, pointing.

Barba scribbled his name, still scowling, and slid the paper back. He snatched up the key and glared at it—an actual _key_ , for God’s sake, on a big plastic fob—and stuffed his wallet in his pocket. “Thanks,” he said.

“Have a nice night,” the man answered, and Barba barely managed to resist the urge to slam the glass door on his way out.

He stalked toward Carisi but hesitated as he drew near, most of his annoyance sliding away at the sight of the detective—still stripped down to his tank top, bent into the front of the car. Barba stopped, swallowing, cursing himself for the inappropriate thoughts suddenly racing through his head. It wasn’t the first time, of course, but that didn’t mean he had any right to such imaginings. He cleared his throat to get Carisi’s attention, and the other man pulled back, straightening.

His hands and arms were streaked with grease, and his hair was a mess, flopping onto his forehead. For a moment, Barba couldn’t breathe. He knew he was staring like an idiot and couldn’t seem to stop.

Carisi looked at him for several seconds, and his lips curved into a half-smile. That knowing little smirk brought the scowl back to Barba’s face, even though it was mostly himself with whom he was annoyed, now. Gaping at his _colleague_ like a lusty teenager, what the hell was wrong with him?

“Did you get something?” Carisi asked, still smiling, undaunted by Barba’s scowl.

“What’s wrong with the car?” Barba asked. “Do you even know?”

“Of course I know,” Carisi answered. He started explaining, but Barba instantly tuned the words out. He didn’t care—nor did he know anything about car engines, which Carisi knew. Barba did like the sound of Carisi’s voice, though, and let him ramble on for half a minute before the detective cut himself off and said, “Are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

“Of course I’m listening,” Barba said, glaring at him.

“What did I just say?”

“The car’s broken and you’re going to fix it,” Barba said. Carisi laughed, and Barba’s face split into a grin. “The guy in there said they’ve got some stuff across the street if you don’t need anything…specific, or whatever.”

“I can get us home with duct tape and tinfoil,” Carisi said, laughing again at the look on Barba’s face.

“If I see you come out of the store with aluminum foil, I’m calling an Uber and I don’t care how much it costs,” Barba warned.

“Fine, fine, I’ll look in their automotive section, first,” Carisi said, but he cast a dubious look toward the store. “Did you get a room or what?”

“Uh, yeah. One. It’s all they had.”

Carisi looked at him doubtfully.

“You can ask if you want,” Barba said, trying not to bristle.

“No, I believe you,” Carisi answered, which soothed Barba’s nerves. “Just, uh…”

Barba pointed toward the upstairs row of rooms and said, “Busted water pipe, apparently. Among other things. We get room eight,” he added, shifting his hand so he was pointing over his shoulder. _And there’s only one bed_ , he thought, but for some reason he couldn’t make the words leave his lips. Not when Carisi had just caught him staring at him like some hormonal kid. It was embarrassing.

“Okay,” Carisi said, turning back toward the car. “I’ll just run across the street and see what I can find before it’s too dark. You want something?”

“Lots of liquor?” Barba suggested. Mostly, he just wanted to earn another laugh, and he wasn’t disappointed when Carisi chuckled. “Something to eat?”

“Like what?” Carisi asked.

“I don’t care.”

Carisi shot him a skeptical look, still smiling, and said, “I doubt that. But I’ll see what I can do. Why don’t you just stand here scowling at the car, maybe you can scare it into running before I get back. Unless you want to come with me?”

Barba opened his mouth, then promptly clamped it shut on the alarmingly inappropriate response that had risen to his tongue. When Carisi glanced at him again, Barba shook his head, silently cursing his burning cheeks.

“You’ll eat whatever I give you, then,” Carisi said.

Barba pressed his lips together, but he saw Carisi’s smirk as the detective started away. _Careful, Sonny_ , he thought, but he was still grinning as he climbed the stairs to their room. His smile faltered when he let himself in and saw the bed, and he knew he should’ve mentioned it right away. He didn’t want Carisi to think he’d planned it or, worse, tried to deceive him about it.

 

*       *       *

 

Barba heard the car’s hood, and then trunk, thud closed. He heard Carisi’s footsteps on the stairs.

Barba had left the door ajar, and was standing beside the bed with the TV remote in his hand. The TV was on, but muted. He was trying to appear occupied, but really he was waiting for Carisi—and his reaction.

Carisi pushed the door open and walked inside, carrying a paper bag. His gaze skimmed across Barba, and the bed, and his steps faltered for only a moment. Barba opened his mouth to offer some sort of excuse or explanation, but before he could say anything, Carisi spoke.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, setting the bag on the table. He reached into the paper sack and pulled out a plastic bag. “I got you a burrito, it’s the only hot food they had,” he added, setting the foil-wrapped food on the table. “If you don’t want it, I’ll make sandwiches when I’m done. There’s a bottle of cheap scotch in here. I bought you a toothbrush and razor, I’ll leave ‘em in the bathroom,” he said, gesturing toward the plastic bag in his hand.

Without another word, Carisi disappeared into the bathroom, and Barba stood in the middle of the room, staring after him. _What the hell just happened?_ he thought.

 

*       *       *

 

Carisi was nervous when he stepped out of the bathroom in his boxer shorts and tank top, but he did his best to cover the fact that he was feeling like an insecure teenager. The sight of the one double bed had thrown him for a loop at first, but he’d already decided—although it wasn’t a _decision_ so much as a _realization_ —that he wanted something to happen.

He didn’t think Barba would initiate, though, and Carisi wasn’t sure he had the courage to make the first move, himself. Perhaps the fact that there was only one bed would make it easier.

Barba was sitting at the table, looking cranky. He’d broken into the scotch but hadn’t opened his burrito. He looked over at Carisi; his gaze skimmed down the length of the detective’s body, and Carisi saw his throat bob. A second later, Barba picked up his cup and swallowed his remaining scotch.

Carisi suppressed a smile, some of his insecurities sliding away. “You want a sandwich?” he asked.

Barba cleared his throat, scowling in the direction of the silent television. “No, I’ll eat this,” he muttered, gesturing toward the burrito.

Carisi nodded, walking over to the table. He pulled out the bread, lunch meat, cheese, and mustard, and set about quickly making himself a sandwich. Barba watched from the corner of his eye, pouring himself more scotch.

“That’s extremely unsanitary,” Barba muttered when Carisi laid his bread on the table. “I’d hate to see this place under a blacklight.”

Carisi smiled. “If I die of some plague before morning, we’ll know why.”

“Scotch?” Barba asked, pointing toward the bottle as Carisi stuffed the sandwich supplies back into the sack.

“No, thanks,” Carisi said, still smiling. He gestured toward the bed and met Barba’s eyes. “Are you making me sleep on the floor?”

Barba blinked, clearly startled. “What? No,” he said. “I—” He broke off when Carisi nodded and headed toward the bed. He watched in silence as the detective propped up the pillows on the far side of the bed and sat down, stretching his bare legs out on the bedspread.

Carisi bit into his sandwich and pointed at the TV. “Are you gonna listen to this or leave it muted?”

Barba shifted in his seat and scowled at the television. “No,” he said, snatching up the remote. He unmuted the television and set the remote on the table with a clatter, reaching for his burrito.

They ate in silence, each pretending they weren’t surreptitiously watching the other. Carisi pulled one of the pillows onto his lap, hoping the movement wasn’t as obvious as it felt. He cursed his burning cheeks even as Barba downed another mouthful of scotch.

Carisi hoped Barba would stop drinking soon. If he were drunk, he might be more likely to make a move—but Carisi would not, in good conscience, be able to accept any drunken advances that wouldn’t have been made while Barba was sober.

As though reading his thoughts, Barba looked at the bottle, suddenly seeming to realize how much he’d already had to drink. He screwed on the lid and shoved the bottle across the table with a grimace.

“We’ll need to get an early start in the morning,” Carisi said.

Barba seemed startled by the sound of his voice. He cleared his throat and, frowning, said, “I always get an early start.”

Carisi smiled. “Right. Well, I can’t vouch for the coffee at that place but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” He swung his legs off the bed and stood, heading toward the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and splashed cold water on his face, hoping his semi-arousal wasn’t as obvious as it felt. He was self-conscious when he walked back out, but Barba studiously avoided looking at him. Carisi retrieved his phone and slid into bed, under the covers, looking at his screen with a frown.

“Forget to cancel a date?” Barba asked.

Carisi answered with a small laugh. “Subtle,” he remarked, shooting Barba a look. “And, no. I’m setting an alarm for five.” He turned the phone off and set it on the nightstand. “Do you mind if I change this?” he asked, gesturing toward the television.

Barba grabbed the remote and tossed it onto the bed. He bounced his knee for a moment, then stood abruptly and headed toward the bathroom.

Carisi flipped through the channels. After a few minutes, he heard the shower. He sighed and turned off the TV, putting the remote beside his phone. The longer Barba was in the bathroom, the less confident Carisi became, and the more it seemed like Barba was trying to avoid him. Carisi knew that the other man wanted him, but that wasn’t the same as wanting to _act_ on what appeared to be a mutual desire. Carisi didn’t want to make Barba any more uncomfortable than he already was, so he slid down under the covers, rolled onto his side, and closed his eyes.

When Barba emerged a while later, Carisi cracked an eye enough to see him stepping out in his boxers and undershirt. Barba looked toward the bed and let out a breath. Carisi wasn’t sure if it was a sigh of relief or disappointment. Perhaps a combination of both.

Barba hung his suit in the closet, and Carisi hid his smile under the edge of the blanket. Barba walked around the bed and clicked off the lamp before sliding into bed. Carisi held his breath as he felt the other man shifting around behind him.

“You can stop pretending you’re asleep,” Barba said, quietly. “I’m not that drunk.”

“Gee, thanks,” Carisi muttered.

“You know what I mean.”

Carisi wasn’t really offended, because he _did_ know what the other man meant. “Goodnight, Barba,” he said.

After a long silence, Barba finally answered. “Goodnight, Carisi,” he said.

 

*       *       *

 

Carisi opened his eyes in the darkness. He lay still, on his back—listening, trying to figure out what had pulled him from sleep. Beside him, Barba was on his back, as well, an arm bent beneath his head, and before Carisi looked, he knew that Barba was awake. That’s what woke Carisi—the change in Barba’s breathing, perhaps, or a slight shift of his body, or maybe just the difference in the atmosphere surrounding them.

“Sleeping with cops,” Barba murmured softly. “They’re always alert. Light sleepers.”

“Have you slept with many cops?” Carisi asked. His voice sounded husky to his own ears. The sleep was clearing from his mind, and his heart had begun to thud in his chest.

“No.”

Carisi turned his head to look at Barba. “Too complicated?” he asked, quietly.

Barba, looking up at the ceiling, let out a soft sigh. “I’m not one to shy from complications, Carisi,” he said, quietly.

Looking at his profile, listening to the soft sounds of his breathing, smelling the dulled scent of soap, Carisi felt a thrum of desire. It was dark in the room, but not so dark that he couldn’t see the shine of Barba’s eyes when the lawyer turned his head toward Carisi.

Gathering his courage, Carisi asked, in a low voice, “What are the odds you’d reject me if I made a move on you right now?”

Barba’s lips curved into a small smile. “Zero to none,” he murmured.

Carisi rolled toward him and put a tentative hand on Barba’s chest. “I like those odds,” he said. He bent his head forward and kissed Barba’s shoulder, adding quietly, “I don’t like the odds of you making the first move.”

Barba shifted his head on the pillow, regarding him. “Did you want me to?” he asked.

“Well, it would’ve made things easier,” Carisi said with a little laugh.

“I wouldn’t want…You’re a good cop, Carisi, and you’re a good lawyer.”

“Are you trying to say you respect me?” Carisi asked, laughing again.

“I’m not sure you believe it,” Barba answered, sounding hesitant.

“Raf, you afraid I’d think you just wanted to get in my pants?”

“More like bend you over a table and fuh—” He broke off, though; he couldn’t bring himself to be that crude while Carisi was looking at him, full of earnestness.

“You said the table was unsanitary, but if you want—”

Barba laughed, a short, surprised sound. “I didn’t exactly come prepared,” he muttered.

Carisi licked his lip, nervously, and said, “Are you talking about…protection? I have—”

“Lubrication, Sonny,” Barba said. His voice was soft and low.

“Oh,” Carisi answered, feeling his cheeks heating. “Right, I mean…it’s possible…”

“It wouldn’t be pleasant for you,” Barba said, with the ghost of a smile touching his lips. The smile disappeared when he saw the speculative look in Carisi’s eyes, though, and he said, “No.”

“Are you saying no because you don’t want to? Or because you don’t think I can take it?”

Now, Barba was frowning. “Whether or not you can _take it_ is not the issue,” he said. “If you think I actually want to _hurt_ you—”

Carisi bent forward and kissed him, pressing his lips lightly against Barba’s. He could feel Barba’s surprise, and he pulled back to look down at the other man. There was no trace of a frown on Barba’s face, now. Carisi smiled, feeling inexplicably shy.

Barba’s hand went to the nape of Carisi’s neck, pulling his head down, and there was nothing tentative about their second kiss. Barba’s tongue forced its way into Carisi’s mouth, and hot desire exploded through the detective, tightening his groin and making him shift against Barba’s leg. He couldn’t breathe as Barba claimed his mouth, and he could think of nothing but getting closer, impossibly closer, and he moved his hips until he was straddling Barba’s legs, settling their throbbing erections against each other.

Barba grunted and turned his face away, drawing a deep breath. “ _Mi Díos_ ,” he muttered, and both of his hands had moved to Carisi’s waist, resting high on his hips.

Carisi hesitated. “If you don’t want—”

“I want you too much, Sonny, that’s the problem,” Barba said quietly, meeting Carisi’s eyes. “I don’t think you…” He trailed off, a frown marring his brow.

“I want you, too,” Carisi told him.

“Do you?” Barba asked, and Carisi had never seen him appear so unsure, insecure.

Carisi moved his hips, just a little. “Can’t you tell?” he asked.

Barba sighed. “That’s not…I don’t want to be something you regret when the sun comes up,” he said.

Carisi realized something in that moment, something that hadn’t occurred to him until just then. Barba wasn’t just worried about hurting Carisi, or being a regret; he was worried about being hurt, himself, and that was something that Carisi had never realized he had the power to do. Barba’s words— _I want you too much, Sonny, that’s the problem_ —suddenly had more meaning. Carisi’s heart was pounding in his chest, and he studied Barba’s face in the dimness.

He lifted a hand and pushed Barba’s hair from his forehead before running his fingers along his stubbled jaw. “Rafael,” he said, softly. “I want you, too,” he repeated. He bent his head and kissed Barba’s jaw before nuzzling his neck, breathing in his scent and feeling the rough stubble against his nose and mouth. Barba made a sound in his throat and tipped his chin up, his hands tightening on Carisi’s hips.

Carisi kissed his throat, nipping lightly with his teeth, before shifting downward, trailing kisses over Barba’s chest, feeling the springy softness of his chest hair through the undershirt. As Carisi moved down, Barba’s hands slid up Carisi’s sides, pulling the detective’s shirt up. When Carisi’s lips reached Barba’s stomach, Barba moved a hand and took hold of Carisi’s chin, gently tipping his face up until their eyes met.

“You don’t have to—”

“I promise not to hurt you,” Carisi said, and Barba drew a quick breath, looking startled. “Trust me,” he added, and after a moment’s hesitation, Barba released his chin. Carisi pushed the other man’s shirt up and pressed his lips against Barba’s bare belly, relishing the shiver that passed through his body. Barba levered himself up and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. Carisi reached back and threw off the restrictive covers.

Carisi continued downward, sucking gently at Barba’s skin until he reached the waistband of his boxers.

He took hold of Barba’s hips but didn’t pull the shorts down; instead, he dipped his chin and kissed Barba’s erection through the thin material.

“Jesus. _God_ ,” Barba gasped, and one of his hands fumbled its way into Carisi’s hair. Carisi pinched the fabric of Barba’s boxers at his hips, pulling it tight, and ran his tongue along the length of Barba’s erection, wetting the boxers.

Carisi was on his knees and elbows, his feet hooked over the end of the bed. His own cock was hard, straining against his shorts, throbbing dully. For the moment, all he cared about was Barba, though.

He tugged the boxers down, freeing Barba’s erection, and wrapped his lips around it, pulling it into his mouth.

“ _Ayyy Díos_ ,” Barba said, his hand fisted in Carisi’s hair. “Fuck…Sonny,” he said, and Carisi felt a shiver of pleasure at the sound of his name.

Carisi sucked, tightening his mouth around Barba’s cock, marveling at the silky weight against his tongue. He pushed his head down, swallowing Barba’s length, testing himself, stopping when he started to gag. He could feel Barba’s body trembling. Carisi slid a hand up to Barba’s stomach, feeling the muscles ripple beneath his palm.

“Sonny,” Barba repeated, and his hips bucked; he tried to stop himself, Carisi could feel his restraint in the tightness of his muscles, but the movement was involuntary, and Barba drove himself into Carisi’s throat, momentarily choking him before dropping back to the bed. “ _Hostia puta, lo siento, mi polla es un pendejo_ ,” Barba was muttering, and Carisi didn’t even think he was aware of the words leaving his mouth. Barba grabbed at Carisi’s hand on his stomach, and his other hand pulled at the detective’s hair. “Wait,” Barba said, and Carisi heard that word clearly.

He lifted his head, pulling his mouth from Barba’s cock, and looked up.

“I can’t—Jesus _Christ_ , Sonny,” Barba said, pulling Carisi—by both his hand and his hair—up and forward.

“What—” Carisi started, crawling awkwardly up the length of Barba’s body.

“I’m not going to come in your throat after thirty seconds like some _pinche adolescente_ ,” Barba said, his voice rough. “Come here.” He let go of Carisi’s hand, and pushed himself up against the pillows, tugging the detective’s head down to kiss him. He released his mouth quickly, though. He grabbed at Carisi’s shirt and tugged it up and over his head; a moment later he grasped Carisi’s hips and pulled him forward, up onto his knees so he was straddling Barba’s chest, and Carisi gasped in surprise, grabbing at the headboard to steady himself.

“Raf—” he started, but Barba pushed his boxers down his thighs, pulled Carisi’s hips forward, and quickly—roughly—swallowed the length of Carisi’s cock. “ _Oh my God_ ,” Carisi breathed, lurching forward, holding onto the headboard. He could hear—and feel—Barba gagging, but he couldn’t pull back. Barba had him gripped tightly by the hips, his fingers splayed around to Carisi’s ass, holding him in place. “Jesus,” Carisi said, pressing his forehead against the wall, willing himself to have a little restraint.

 _I’m not going to come in your throat after thirty seconds_ , Barba had said, and his words brought Carisi almost as much pleasure as his mouth—knowing that he’d driven Barba so far to distraction that the normally-verbose lawyer couldn’t even articulate, in either language, knowing that he wanted Carisi so badly that he couldn’t control himself. But now, Carisi was facing the same problem; he was about to empty himself into Barba’s mouth after only a few seconds, and there was nothing he could do to stop himself. It felt so good, _too_ good, better than anything he’d ever experienced, and he heard himself groan as his hips bucked forward against Barba’s face.

“I can’t—Oh God,” he said, but Barba’s mouth was relentless, unyielding, and Carisi’s body shuddered as his orgasm battered him, threatening to tear him apart. Barba swallowed his cum and sucked until Carisi thought the sensation might actually kill him, and he was muttering a string of incoherent words as he clung to the headboard. Finally, Barba released him, turning his head to pull in a deep, ragged breath, and Carisi collapsed against him, his elbows resting on Barba’s shoulders as both men struggled to catch their breaths.

Carisi’s muscles were weak and rubbery. He shifted downward, feeling Barba kiss his stomach and chest as Carisi slid down the other man’s body, and then their lips were together. Carisi could taste himself in Barba’s kiss, but the fact barely registered; he felt dazed. He wanted to get back to pleasuring Barba, but couldn’t seem to make his muscles cooperate.

He pulled away from Barba’s kiss and, putting his hands on the other man’s shoulders to brace himself, managed to push himself downward, pressing breathless kisses against the lawyer’s belly. He closed his mouth around Barba’s erection, determined to finish what he’d started, but he was still struggling to breathe.

Barba shifted his hips, making a sound in his throat, and put a hand against Carisi’s forehead. Carisi looked up at him, and Barba reached down, taking himself in his hand so that only the head of his erection was in Carisi’s mouth.

“Just stay there,” Barba said, his voice husky. Carisi braced himself on his elbows, his hands resting at Barba’s waist. “Just… _stay_ …” he said, stroking himself quickly and roughly. _Just stay there_ , he’d said, but Carisi tightened his mouth and sucked. “ _Díos mio_ ,” Barba gasped, thrusting upward, and Carisi’s mouth was suddenly filled with warm, salty semen. He was still swallowing when Barba sank into the mattress, slipping from his mouth, his arms falling to the bed. A moment later, Carisi dropped on top of him, unable to support his own weight any longer.

He laid his cheek against Barba’s heaving chest. “Shove me off if you want,” he murmured when he’d caught his breath. “I can’t move.”

Barba chuckled quietly, the vibration traveling through both of their bodies. He wrapped his arms around Carisi’s head and shoulders. “Just stay there,” he muttered, and then they were both laughing, holding onto each other as their bodies recovered.

“Don’t say I don’t follow directions,” Carisi said.

Barba loosened his grip and said, “Come here.”

Carisi lifted himself up, unsteadily, and crawled forward.

Barba grinned at him. “Just checking,” he said, planting a quick kiss on Carisi’s mouth. He shifted, pushing Carisi onto his back, and pulled the blankets over their boxers-clad bodies. He rested his head on the detective’s shoulder and laid his palm over Carisi’s abdomen.

Carisi wrapped his arms around Barba, loving his weight and heat, and the feel of the rough stubble against his chest, and the way their slowing breaths seemed to sync. They could drift easily into sleep, but Carisi knew there was something he had to say—something he had to admit—first.

“Raf?”

“Hmm.”

“If I tell you something, you promise not to get mad?”

“No,” Barba said. He shifted, and added, “Now would be a good time to try me, though. I doubt I could muster any anger toward you.”

Carisi was silent, debating.

After a few moments, Barba lifted his head to look at him, and saw his frown. “That was a joke, Carisi,” he said. “Tell me.”

“You know I didn’t plan this, right?”

“What, like you sabotaged the car?”

“No,” Carisi said, still frowning. “But that I didn’t plan to…seduce you.”

“ _Seduce_ me?” Barba asked, his eyebrows going up in surprise. “The thought had not occurred to me, no.”

Carisi looked down at his hand as he picked at the bedspread, his forehead creased. “I started to ask if you wanted to…have sex, and you said no—”

“I said I didn’t want to _hurt_ you,” Barba said, pushing himself up higher so he could better see Carisi’s face.

“Yeah, well…the thing is…I, uh…” He let out a breath and forced his wary gaze up to Barba’s. “I bought lube when I went across the street. I wanted…Well, I _hoped_ …” He swallowed and gave his head a little shake. “I chickened out and couldn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d think I’d orchestrated some sort of—”

Barba leaned forward and kissed him, cutting him off. His tongue explored Carisi’s mouth—slowly, lazily—until Carisi couldn’t think clearly. He had just enough presence of mind left to marvel at how easily and completely Barba could manipulate Carisi’s body into a desired reaction.

Finally, Barba pulled back, allowing Carisi to draw a breath. “You would’ve let me try without lubrication rather than admit—”

“I didn’t think you’d actually accept that offer,” Carisi interrupted. “But yeah, I would’ve. If that were the only option, I’d still do it. But since there’s an easier way…”

“I need a little time to recover, Sonny,” Barba said with a smile. “If you still want to talk about this in an hour or so—”

“How about forty-five minutes?” Carisi suggested.

Barba laughed. He bent his head and kissed Carisi’s chest before settling once more onto his shoulder. “Fine,” he said. He traced a finger, lightly, along Carisi’s ribs, and murmured, “ _Mi nene flaco_.”

“You know, if the Spanish is your idea of foreplay, it works—but it’s not really necessary.”

“You touch me and I forget how to think in English,” Barba muttered with a smile.

“I could’ve fixed the car tonight.”

“I could’ve called for a ride,” Barba returned. “What did you think when you walked in here and saw one bed? That I was trying to…trick you into—”

“Of course not!” Carisi exclaimed. “I hoped…you wanted something to happen, but I never thought you’d _lie_ about it. And I’d already…bought the stuff, so…it kinda seemed…lucky,” he added with a small laugh.

Barba snuggled closer and closed his eyes. “Hmm. So stop worrying, _nene_ ,” he murmured, sleepily. “Rest up, I’m not done with you, yet.”

Carisi laughed quietly. “I hope not,” he said.

 

*       *       *

 

“Tell me what you want.”

Sonny shifted against the pillows. “You know what I want,” he muttered. Barba was kneeling between his thighs, naked, and just the sight was enough to steal Carisi’s breath.

“I want you to say it,” Barba said. He was slowly—making sure that Carisi was watching every movement—rolling on a condom.

Carisi swallowed. “It’s embarrassing.”

Barba smirked at him. “I like it when you blush,” he said. “Say it.”

“Fine,” Carisi answered. “I want to feel you inside me,” he said, and the heat immediately crept into his cheeks. “Happy?”

Barba leaned forward, bracing himself on his arms, and said, softly, “Hmm, _cielito_ , don’t be embarrassed.” He bent down, hovering with his lips an inch from Carisi’s, searching his face.

“I thought you liked me embarrassed.”

“I like the blush,” Barba murmured. “Don’t be afraid to tell me what you want, Sonny.”

“I want you,” Carisi answered. Barba closed the distance between their mouths, but he kept the kiss soft. After a moment, he pushed himself back up onto his knees. “You want help with that?” Carisi asked, watching Barba adding lubrication to the condom.

Barba smiled. “Oh, I do,” he said. “But it would be a bad idea. I’m going to have enough trouble controlling myself.” He met Carisi’s eyes, growing serious, and asked, “Are you sure, Sonny?”

“Yes,” Carisi answered without hesitation.

“Bend your knees up.” Carisi obeyed. Barba poured the thick lubrication into his hands, letting it warm to his skin. “Relax,” he murmured.

“I am relaxed,” Carisi said.

Barba slowly slid a slippery finger into Carisi, and said, “Relax more.”

Carisi let out a breath. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Barba said. “Look at me.” When Carisi met his gaze, Barba said, “Keep your eyes on my face.” He added another finger, using his thumb to apply a generous helping of lubrication to the whole area. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Barba added more lubrication, first to Carisi, then to himself. “Put your leg over my shoulder,” he said, and Carisi quickly complied. “Give it time, I think you’ll find you like it,” he said, moving himself forward so that Carisi was levered up a bit.

“If you like it, I like it,” Carisi said.

Barba chuckled. “Steady, _mi amor_ ,” he said, barely above a whisper. Carisi wasn’t sure that Barba realized what he’d just said. Carisi was far from being fluent in Spanish, but he knew that one. Barba was looking down, watching what he was doing. Carisi watched Barba’s face.

Barba had barely entered Carisi before he stopped, waiting, letting the detective acclimate. After a few moments, he drew back and pushed forward again, a little further. He leaned against Carisi’s thigh, and sank a little deeper.

“Oh, God,” Carisi said.

“Stay with me,” Barba said, looking up at him, and Carisi could hear the strain in his voice.

“I am, I’m here, I just—Oh, God,” Carisi repeated. Barba started to withdraw, and Carisi reached out, grabbing at his arm. “Don’t stop, just—just give me a minute.”

“Sonny—”

“Don’t stop,” Carisi repeated. He shifted a little, and Barba sucked in a breath. “Raf. Please.”

Barba leaned further forward, and Carisi’s hand slid up to his shoulder, clutching at him. Barba withdrew partway, and slowly flexed his hips forward, watching Carisi’s face, now. Carisi closed his eyes and tipped his head back into the pillow.

“Uh-uh, look at me,” Barba said, and Carisi’s eyes opened. “Right here. You’re almost there, Sonny.”

Barba pushed the rest of the way in, sheathing himself completely, and then stopped. Carisi shifted, and Barba suppressed a groan. Looking at him, Carisi repeated, breathlessly, “Sorry.”

Barba shook his head. “No, _nene_ ,” he said. “You’re perfect. You just— _ah_ —feel so…fucking good—” He leaned forward, bracing one hand on the bed while holding Carisi’s hip with the other, and Carisi lifted his head to meet his kiss. Barba flexed his hips, again, swallowing Carisi’s gasp. Barba moved slowly, sliding in and out—the movement was easier, now—while he plunged his tongue into Carisi’s mouth. Carisi was holding onto Barba’s arms, his fingers digging into his skin.

Carisi’s leg was hooked over Barba’s shoulder, his knee up near their heads as they kissed. He wrapped his other leg around Barba’s thighs.

Barba pulled his mouth from Carisi’s, breathing heavily, and said, “Feel this, Sonny?”

“Yeah,” Carisi grunted, clinging to him. “Yeah.”

“You like that?”

Carisi made a sound.

“What?”

“Yes,” he gasped. “Yeah, I like…Oh, God,” he said, as Barba’s tempo increased. “Please, Raf.”

“You gonna come for me?” Barba asked.

“I—yeah. I—”

“You need some help?” Barba asked, and he sounded amused in spite of his strain.

“I don’t—know—”

Barba laughed, breathlessly, and moved his hand from Carisi’s hip to his erection.

“Oh my God,” Carisi said.

Barba’s hand was still slick with lubrication, and Carisi’s cock was soon slippery and glistening in the low light. “Sonny.”

“Huh.”

“You feel me inside of you?”

“Oh—yeah—”

“You wanna come with me inside you?” Barba asked, stroking Carisi’s erection in time with his own thrusts.

“ _Yesss_. Are you—are you—”

“Look at me. Say my name—say my name when you come, Sonny.”

“Raf—Raf—God. Rafael.”

Barba claimed Carisi’s mouth in another kiss as both of their bodies shuddered. Carisi was holding onto Barba with all four of his limbs, bent in half, barely able to breathe. As Barba regained some of his senses, he started to pull back, to disentangle himself, and Carisi tightened his grip.

“Let me up so you can breathe,” Barba said.

“No,” Carisi said, and Barba laughed weakly, dropping his head onto Carisi’s chest.

After a few seconds, he pushed himself up. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

Carisi let his arms fall to the bed, and Barba helped him lower his leg before gently pulling himself free.

Barba stripped off his condom and tossed it in the garbage can before crawling onto the bed. He rolled onto his back and reached for Carisi, who immediately dragged himself up and over so he was draped across Barba’s chest, his cheek on the lawyer’s shoulder.

“I need a shower,” Barba muttered. “I’m all…sticky and slimy.”

Carisi managed a laugh. “I’ll take a shower with you but you’ll have to hold me up.”

“I’ll prop you in the corner,” Barba said, wrapping his arms around Carisi’s sweaty torso. Carisi laughed again. “Are you alright?” Barba asked after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

Carisi lifted his head, with effort, to meet Barba’s eyes. “Yes,” he said. “I didn’t know it would…feel like that.”

“Like what?”

“Good,” Carisi said, blushing.

Barba lifted a hand to Carisi’s cheek, smiling. “And yet you volunteered. Silly boy.”

“I wanted you to…uh…enjoy yourself…” Carisi said, offering a sheepish grin.

“It’s only fun if we’re both enjoying ourselves, Sonny,” Barba answered, patting Carisi’s warm, stubbly cheek. He sighed. “But seriously, I can’t sleep like this. I need to clean up. Come on.”

Carisi dropped his head back onto Barba’s shoulder. “Aw, can’t we just stay here?” he asked. “You can wipe your hands on me.”

“I did,” Barba said, dryly. “You’re covered in slime. You’re smearing it all over me. Get up.”

Carisi made a whiny sound, and Barba chuckled, kissing his head.

“Come on, _flaquito_.”

“What’s _flaquito_?”

“You are,” Barba said, poking gently at Carisi’s ribs.

Carisi pushed himself up and rolled toward the edge of the bed with a groan.

“Sore, _nene_?” Barba asked.

“Are you still in there?” Carisi asked, and Barba threw his head back and laughed. Carisi grinned back at him and held out a hand to help Barba off the bed.

“A nice hot shower will make you feel better,” Barba said, taking him by the wrist and leading him toward the bathroom.

“Then can I sleep on you? When I’m clean?”

“If you insist,” Barba answered with a smile.

 

*       *       *

 

“Are you sure we’ll make it into the city?” Barba asked, eyeing the idling car with distrust.

“I’m sure. Don’t you trust me?” Carisi asked with a smirk.

Barba looked at him. “Oh, I trust _you, mi cielito_ ,” he said. “I’m just not sure I trust this hunk of metal.”

“Do I want to know what you keep calling me?” Carisi asked.

Barba grinned at him.

Carisi said, with a laugh, “I feel like maybe you’re insulting me.”

“No, no,” Barba said, patting him briefly on the chest. They were both wearing their suits, although neither of them had shaved. It was early, and the morning was chilly enough for them to see their breaths. “Never, Sonny.”

“Well,” Carisi answered, smiling, “I do like the ‘my’ part at the beginning, whatever you’re saying.” He hadn’t mentioned the single _mi amor_ that seemed to have slipped, unbidden and unnoticed, from Barba’s lips, but he hadn’t forgotten it.

“Oh, you’re mine,” Barba answered, his voice soft. “Whether you like it or not.” He was smiling, but in the light of day, Carisi could see doubt lurking in the other man’s eyes. “But we should get going,” Barba said, starting to turn away.

Carisi reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back around. “What do I get to call you?” he asked.

“Sir?” Barba suggested, cocking an eyebrow. Carisi laughed, and Barba said, quietly, “You can call me whatever you want, _mi amor_.”

Carisi hesitated, surprised.

“You thought I didn’t realize I said it?” Barba asked with a smile. “I knew, and I meant it. But I don’t expect—” He stopped, looking over his shoulder as a couple came out of the fourteenth room. He sighed. “We should get going,” he repeated.

Carisi grabbed his lapels and pulled him forward, startling him. Carisi covered Barba’s mouth with his, and felt the tension leave the other man’s body. Barba’s mouth opened to him, and his hands went to Carisi’s arms.

When Carisi pulled back, he met Barba’s eyes and said, “I meant what I said, too. I won’t hurt you, Raf.”

Barba swallowed, and Carisi could see the emotion shining in his eyes.

Carisi let go of his lapels and smoothed the front of his suit, patting Barba's chest. “Come on, we’ve got a long drive and we might be stopping a lot 'cause I don’t know if I can sit for three hours.” He grinned, and was rewarded with a famous Rafael Barba smirk.

 


End file.
